There Will Be Time
by Rooftop27
Summary: No one is Sereitei could say they Byakuya well enough. All they knew of him was what they saw. But there's more to him than that.
1. Formulated Phrase

No one is Sereitei could say that Byakuya was their friend. No, in fact no one could even say they knew the man well enough, let alone share a mutual bond. Of course that was not what he intended. But it was better this way.

At least that was what he told himself.

_Like a patient etherized upon a table;_

He was the head of the most famous noble house. He was the captain of the sixth division. He was duty-bound. People respected him. Some were in awe of him, some in fear, some just waiting to see him fall. As with anyone with such high status, there will be those who hope to see you falter, and get a kick out of it. Everyone had his critical eye on him. One little slip, and he knew the population of soul society would be in uproar. Had it been anyone else, said mistake would probably only warrant several raised eyebrows. But because it was him, The Kuchiki Byakuya, any response would be magnified tenfold.

_And I have known the eyes already, known them all--_

_The eyes that fix you in a formulated phrase,_

So what does he do? He doesn't make mistakes. He doesn't falter. His constancy was a comfort. His presence was support. His image, a symbol of fortitude. As such, he was just a figure to revere. Like a statue. But people didn't have high expectations from a statue. And a statue couldn't do anything to disappoint. That is why it is better if he didn't reveal anything and have nothing to reveal. Only that way would he have nothing to distract him, sealed completely airtight.

_To prepare a face to meet the faces that you meet;_

When you come down it, everything was rather simple, wasn't it? If you thought about things logically, lay them out on a table, everything fell nicely into a grid, didn't it? There are rules, and you follow them. There are expectations, and you fulfill them. There are duties, and you execute them with precision. Why would you do otherwise? Simple and clear cut, there was nothing else to it, really.

_For I have known them all already, known them all:_

_Have known the evenings, mornings, afternoons,_

_I have measured out my life with coffee spoons;_

Emotions? Relations? Such distant and unfamiliar words that was only uttered from his mouth as an inquiry, preceding slightly arched eyebrows and a smirk. Don't they know these only served to complicate things unnecessarily? That they only disrupt what you have laid out so methodically out on the table and cause the grid to squiggle and blur? Such concepts were useless and a hindrance. So what does he do? He does not associate himself with such abstract concepts.

At least that was what he told himself.

Maybe he didn't, because he couldn't. Held by the perception and expectations of others. Or perhaps he has lost the ability to. People learnt to adapt didn't they? Once beaten twice shy. But for him, maybe twice beaten, or thrice even. In any case, one too many. Yes, no mistake there. It was certainly lost, meaning there was something to lose in the first place. No one could say they knew this man at all. Only he knew the reasons, having experienced it all and remembered it all ever so vividly.


	2. Peach Perfume

He once loved someone, in every sense of the word

He once loved someone, in every sense of the word. He certainly stepped out of line but it was worth it. Even now, he does not regret it one bit. Her name was Hisana, a mere commoner, but he loved her regardless of going against the sacred rules of the noble house. As a result, throughout the Kuchiki clan, he would hear mutterings as he walked down the aisle, and feel the intense gaze on his retreating back. He was naive then. How stupid of him to have such idealistic, wishful thinking. Did he actually think people would understand? That they would go "Aww. It's okay. He's in love." Nonsense. He was granted no such luxury. But he would not exchange it for anything. Perhaps as punishment, she was taken from him by sickness.

The first sakura flower had bloom from the tree just outside their window. They often sat in the garden under this very same tree previously. During those times, her eyes would simply sparkle as she took in all the sights and sounds. And he never grew tired of her same eager face, like a child on Christmas morning, or the similar conversations they would have this time of year. Her exclamations of how beautiful they were, her giggles when the petals and leaves cascaded down on them, and especially how her innocent eyes would widen every time he cupped her hands in his, carefully placing a flower into her open palms. But this time, it was different. Her eyes now tired and resigned. As he clutched her hand, and feeling how weak her grip was, he still refused to accept what he saw as reality. Maybe if he closed his eyes, and opened it once more, he'd realize it was all a dream. But she held his gaze, rendering him unable to look away. As much as he wanted to turn away so that she wouldn't see his eyes redden, he was immobilized at the same time, wanting so much to gaze back forever and feel her warmth. Alas, fate is cruel.

For the days to come, he found himself withdrawing to his room more often, preferring the company of his thoughts rather than the company of others. He had always been that way, but more so now than ever. It was partly because he didn't want to hear people speak in hushed voices and seeing them shuffle close to their companion and cupping their hands over their mouths everytime he walked pass. He was used to it, but of all times, he really did not need this right now. He knew what they were saying. Was it a plot to rid the noble house of undesirables? Don't you agree that now the Kuchikis can redeem themselves? How is he taking it? His expression didn't seem to have changed. Has he no heart? But being the master of control that he was, he didn't even bat an eyelid, suppressing the urge to holler profanities and aim powerful byakurais at their sorry posteriors.

But mostly, he wanted to remember. His room still smelt of her peach-scented fragrance, the one he bought her when they first met. How her face turned a becoming shade of pink, he chuckled. But she had declined it, insisting it was not her place to accept such flamboyant gifts, for the perfume was certainly expensive. She told had told him with all seriousness, arms on her hips, that it's not the gifts but the heart that counts, you know? At this point she directed her finger at his chest, jabbing it insistently. She really was the most adorable thing on eart, her eyebrows in knits as she wagged her finger at him. that's what he found so refreshing about her. She was not being obnoxious or rude. She was simply down-to-earth. Reaching out, he gently took her hand, mock scolding her as he said how could he think of her that way? After he had spent hours watching her, visualizing what she might like, and finally decided that the fragrance suited her perfectly well! Now he shall keep the fragrance for himself then. And made to release her hand, but the expression on her face told him not to.


End file.
